


Goodness

by pseudofaux



Series: Goodness [1]
Category: Samurai Love Ballad: PARTY, 天下統一恋の乱 | Sakura Amidst Chaos | Samurai Love Ballad (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Coercion, Dubious Consent, F/M, I like to think it ends in a cuddle puddle but ymmv, Infidelity, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sorry Yukimura, calling Nobuyuki on his bullshit (in a way), eventually consensual infidelity, these two are going to have some SPLAINING to do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-24 10:27:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12010800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudofaux/pseuds/pseudofaux
Summary: Sanada Akiba loves her earnest, sweet husband, and hopes she is like Yukimura. She is. Her goodness gets her into trouble.Her keenness sees her through it.





	1. Given

**Author's Note:**

> CHECK THOSE TAGS, DEARIE. I tried to cover all the bases as far as potentially objectionable content goes. This story involves Yukimura's MC being coerced into infidelity by Nobuyuki. If the thought of that makes you unhappy, this is not something you should read. I don't want to make you unhappy! If you're on the fence, scroll to the bottom of this for some context that may help you decide if you wanna go for it or not. No hard feelings if you don't. <3
> 
> This is set in Ueda, throughout late summer and fall. Akiba is Yukimura's (recent) wife; I haven't written her as having the story from Yukimura's route. Family does own the restaurant, she's not from a samurai family, Yukkin is still a blushing little cuddlewaffle. But he's also a man and MC is a grown woman. They're a bit shy but not beside themselves with nosebleeds or anything. 
> 
> No smut yet. It's coming (is it ever) in the next chapter.

She set down the tray on the floor of Nobuyuki’s study, hoping he would be pleased at the elegant presentation. The kitchen staff were teaching her regional methods of plating and garnishing, and putting foods together to please the eye as well as the tongue was surprisingly gratifying. Yukimura noticed her first attempts when a maid brought them to his attention, and his gentle, knowing smile for her when he realized what she was trying to do had softened her entire day. She expected Nobuyuki, on the other hand, had noticed immediately. That was his way.

“Thank you, Akiba-san. Those look very appetizing.”

Her husband’s brother was invariably pleasant to her. In both brothers, the Sanada had the noblest scions possible. She knew she was fortunate to join their clan as Sanada Akiba, to have her own family under their protection. Her mother and Yahiko adored Yukimura (who returned their affection with his abundant good nature), and Nobuyuki made a point of being seen in their restaurant every time he was in Kyoto. To look at her marriage shrewdly, she had only brought her cooking skill and her devotion to Yukimura to their union. But the consistent warm approval of the clan was making her feel more comfortable as the first season of their marriage passed into the second. Sometimes she woke up within Yukimura’s arms not believing it was possible to be so lucky as to live this way, loving and loved by a lord.

Her lord. Her husband! The kindest, most earnest person she had ever known. She had been enchanted by his shyness and touched by his regard for her from the moment they met. Capable of unmatched ferocity (she had seen it, been shocked and even a little thrilled by his strength) but also of reverently cherishing her. Yukimura’s masculine, beautiful body had shielded hers and made her a woman. He took such tender care of her.

“Are you thinking of something pleasant, my dear?” Nobuyuki’s face was suddenly much closer than she remembered.

“Ah! I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?” His smile widened. Moments like this reminded her that Nobuyuki was cut from different cloth than Yukimura, perhaps a shade darker than his brother. But she also knew he was only teasing her, not trying to be unkind.

“My thoughts got away from me.” She took a breath, knowing her cheeks had pinked, and smiled back at him. “I apologize. Is there anything else you require, milord?”

“Hmm.” Nobuyuki’s face didn’t move. She thought briefly that something might have changed about his eyes, or flitted across them. The aquamarine was startling—like Yukimura’s, but not quite the same—it was difficult to be sure of changes because it was so easy to be lost in their color. She realized they were staring at one another, and felt her face blush further.

“No,” he said, after an unsettlingly long moment. She ducked her head in a quick bow. Worry that she had wasted his time or displeased him or come across like a simpleton had her nervously feeling for the hairline behind an ear. Had she missed some cue? She would have to ask Umeko if there were signals she needed to learn. She no longer served anyone but Yukimura and, infrequently, Nobuyuki, but she wanted to do things right.

“Good afternoon, then, Nobuyuki-sama.” She bowed properly and made to leave.

“And to you. Thank you again, Akiba-san.” Oh, but his voice was so warm and kind. He wasn’t upset. She couldn’t keep the relief from her face, and she lifted her eyes to his to make sure he saw her happiness. It always seemed to please Nobuyuki when she was happy.

* * *

He was reading.

She had announced herself in the antechamber, but since there had been no response she allowed the cups on the tray to clink together. That brought his face up right away.

For the barest second his face seemed very… flat. But no, he was smiling mildly at her and she had not even seen his face _move_ , so he must have been smiling all along, or simply startled by her warning. And really, the man almost smiled too much. His cheeks probably hurt by every midday.

“Akiba-san. Good morning. I lost track of time. Please set the tray beside the table.”

“Of course.” She lowered her head.

She didn’t begrudge him his leisurely morning, but it wasn’t like him to lose track of time. He was so steady and mindful. As the Sanada heir, though, he probably had responsibilities she was ill-prepared to even imagine.

She kneeled to set the tray where he asked, and moved the cups a bit apart so nothing would be knocked over when it was time for him to share the food and drink with his guest. She wondered who he would be hosting here. She had never been to this room, a private library, she guessed. It was a small space, so the meeting was probably going to be with someone he trusted. There were only two cups, of course, and the refreshments were high-quality but minimal. She rolled her eyes at the chattery thoughts; honestly, it was like she brought the voices of the kitchen with her whenever she left.

“Akiba-san.” He’d come over to stand behind her. How had she not heard the rustling of his clothes? The fabrics were rich and heavy. She knew they made noise. She must have been very caught up in her speculations on what he was going to do with what she had brought to him.

Since she knew he was standing just behind her, she did not turn around. It would be an untoward closeness, to have her face at that level. She rememberedquite specifically from other encounters that her eyes were hip high on his body when she was kneeling. She blushed, unable to help feeling like Yukimura when he realized intimate possibilities of… anything, really. The next time she wanted to tease him, she would remember this and keep her thoughts to herself.

“Yes, Nobuyuki-sama?” Her voice was steady, despite her embarrassment. She was getting better!

“What is on your wrist?” he asked.

Was that frostiness in his voice? Was she not supposed to be wearing them? Akiba frowned at her incomplete understanding of how things worked here.

“Bracelets from Yukimura, milord. I… I’m sorry, if I am not supposed to wear them. I didn’t think.” Her fingertip traced the curve of one of the dainty bands gingerly as she answered him, sad to think of taking off the gifts so soon. The enamel of one was bright red like Yukimura’s war clothes, and the other was just the otherworldly color of his eyes. Sasuke had cheerfully let it slip that morning that Yukimura had ordered them made for her. Imagining Yukimura having thoughtful treasures commissioned just for her made her feel like she was standing in warm sunshine. He was so _good_ , but he was also so green, and she knew something like that had taken real effort from him. She loved him fiercely, even when it occasionally felt as though she was more worldly, even thought that was completely untrue. Still, Yukimura was good, and brave in so many ways. The bracelets represented the breadth of his heart and were already very precious to her.

“Of course you are supposed to wear such precious things,” he said cordially. Ah, the smile was there in his voice. And of course he understood her feelings about the bracelets; that was like Nobuyuki, to see and recognize the implications of what he saw. She felt tension release in her jaw and shoulders. She stood up, and turned to face her brother in law. Akiba had to angle her face to meet his eyes, but this was considerably more appropriate than looking up at him from below his waist.

“Thank you, Nobuyuki-sama.” It felt like they were sharing his understanding, in on a secret together. Her face felt a bit silly from the smiling but she could not seem to bring her cheeks down.

His own smile was steady as ever. He waved a hand, gracefully, dismissing her earlier concerns.

“Is there anything else you need, milord?”

His head tilted slightly. He regarded her without criticism, and without giving her any clue as to his thoughts. After a long minute, he said “No. Thank you.” Something about his smile might have been stiff as he said it, but when she looked closer his face was in its usual agreeable grin.

So she bowed, and left the room.

* * *

“Nobuyuki-sama, I’ve brought the sake you requested,” she quietly announced. It had taken her a few minutes to even find this room, and she wondered if he might be trying to help her improve her knowledge of the castle by asking to be served in such a variety of places. Or toying with her. Both seemed possible.

“Excellent. Come in.”

As soon as she slid the door open, she recognized the peppery, sweet smell of lavender. She had learned from the gardeners that he liked it and had it grown as long into the year as possible. Given that it was solidly fall now, she was surprised to see a vase stuffed with fresh flower stalks just beside the doorframe. It made her smile.

She set the tray down a respectful distance from him and went back to admire the flowers. It had been a long day, but she expected a moment or two in Nobuyuki’s presence would refresh her, just as his lavender was doing. He was so refined. That evening at dinner she had admired the graceful way he ate. His hands on his chopsticks so sure, every bite precise but effortless, no spills, his sleeves somehow avoiding every dish. His courteous nods to her, and to the kitchen staff, and to all the retainers in the hall.  
  
She was a little lonely, missing Yukimura’s own pleasant nature. And his warmth, especially at night. He was supposed to be back within the week. Saizo and Sasuke were gone, too, and several of the retainers she was getting to know. Everything seemed quieter. It wasn’t unpleasant, and honestly there was so much to _do_ in a household in the fall, both as Lady Sanada and as Akiba who was still allowed in the kitchens, that it was helpful to be preparing fewer meals. She suddenly remembered that she needed to do some tidying before bed if she wanted to remain in the cook’s good graces, and prepared herself to go. She couldn’t help touching one of the vibrant flowers before she left.

“Is there anything else I can bring to you, milord?” she asked as she rose from kneeling.  
  
At this point, she knew to expect he would be closer than he was when she’d turned her back to him. Sure enough, he was right there. But _how_ had he gotten up, and over to her, without making a sound? Was Saizo teaching him? She believed he had his own Saizo, but had never seen or heard the ninja. Naturally.

“Hmm,” he mused. His ever-present smile widened. And then, fast as a viper, he grabbed her wrist.

“Nobuyuki-sama?! Are you alright?” Had he staggered? Had he been poisoned? His hand was hot.

“Dearest. Don’t fret. I am ‘alright’. There is something you can bring to me.”

Her smile felt weak, and her pulse felt fast.  
  
“Of course, milord.” Her voice wavered. This was so unlike him. “What is it that you need? The food is back in the kitchens, of course…”

“I need,“ he said, his face coming close to hers, "you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important for those considering reading: this story will feature coerced infidelity and some dubcon. SPOILER ALERT the female character "gives in" in a sense and enjoys herself (sort of); there's no violence or threat of violence. She's in shock for a bit but not comatose and eventually she sort of gains the upper hand (ymmv)? There's dialogue that is essentially permission given (but there's also dialogue preceeding that where she asks him not to do this, so be aware). Nobuyuki liiiiiiiiikes her. It's not healthy, but he doesn't have any desire to hurt her. She puts a few pieces together and sees right through him after a while, and by the end I hope it's clear I've intended her to reestablish her agency. 
> 
> Hope that helps!


	2. Taken

_“Hmm,” he mused. His ever-present smile widened. And then, fast as a viper, he grabbed her wrist._

_"Nobuyuki-sama?! Are you alright?" Had he staggered? Had he been poisoned? His hand was hot._

_He **chuckled**. Was he drunk?_

_"Dearest. Don't fret. I am 'alright'. There is something you can bring to me."_

_Her smile felt weak, and her pulse felt fast._  
  
_“Of course, milord.” Her voice wavered. This was so unlike him. “What is it that you need? The food is back in the kitchens, of course…”_

_“I need," he said, his face coming close to hers, "you.”_

* * *

The hair on her arms raised. This was uncomfortable teasing, even from him.

“Nobuyuki-sama,” she tried, pulling her wrist back. He did not let go. “I’m not sure what you mean. But I am happy to go back to the kitchen and get you what you need.”

“Sweet girl.” His other arm went around her, pulling her against his body. He continued to smile. “What I need is right here, Akiba.”

She was in shock. This was her brother in law! She had observed before that there was a bit of disregard for the rules in his nature, but this was beyond inappropriate. She was so unsure how to respond that the voice protesting this treatment in her head was minimal, and she did not fight him. She did not push him away or scream or run. She did not try to get him to admit this was a bit of fun at her expense. Akiba could do little more than blink and breathe, and it felt like any moment her body would give up. Or he would give up the joke.  

He brought her hand to his mouth. She watched, feeling the confusion wrinkle her forehead. She didn’t dare slap him, did she?

“Darling,” he murmured against the flesh of her palm, “you must relax. You are safe.”

**_Safe?!_ **

“I am going to cherish you. This will only happen once. I will not hurt you.” He punctuated these declarations by kissing the inside of her hand. Her nervous brain seized on the effort of trying not to gawp, since she could not seem to hold on to any other thought.

“You are so loved here,” he said gently. He looked up from her palm to meet her wide eyes. “By everyone. You are innately good. I am hungry for something good that can be mine.”

He turned her around so fast it felt like she had been whirled in a dance. Now her back was to his front. Her whole body felt frozen, and her hands were useless at her sides.

His own hands were sliding down the sides of her body. He stopped at her hips and squeezed. Not so hard it would hurt, but hard enough to brook no argument.

“You are what you can serve me. I will never take your goodness for granted.”  
  
Nobuyuki began to move his fingers up and down in tiny lines, massaging the front of her thighs. His tongue touched just behind her ear, and she whimpered. She was an insect in a web, a rabbit in an inescapable snare. The sense of doom made her feel overpowered. Her thoughts remained stuttering and unclear.

“But. I will have that goodness for my own. This once.”  
  
Her lips were quivering. She tried to speak and failed. A small, inarticulate sound came out of her throat.  
  
Her husband’s brother put his arms around her waist and pulled her back the last few centimeters to his body. He kept her there as his cheek rested atop her head and his hand moved to stroke her arm. It would have been comforting if this had been any other circumstance. “Shh, darling, shh. I would never hurt you.”  
  
Akiba needed to protest. But she still could not speak. Her breaths were quick, tiny huffs and her throat and lungs would not cooperate with her knowledge that she should cry out, to shock Nobuyuki out of this extremely strange behavior, to break the spell of this joke, to try to alert someone to help her.  
  
“You have lain with Yukimura?” His voice was very steady as he put the question to her.  
  
She colored deeply and nodded, expecting that she would still be unable to speak. Maybe he just needed to know this, perhaps there was some regard for his brother that would make her answer make him stop, maybe… She did not want to think it of him, but nobles could be strange—maybe he just wanted to bed a virgin?  
   
But he did not let her go. He sighed as though relieved, and gently pressed her against his body. She could feel him, smell him. Nobuyuki’s body was less muscular than Yukimura’s, but they had the same broad form. Despite the very different ways they lived day to day, they even smelled a bit like one another. Incense, she realized. It must be in their clothes.

“Good. I’m not doing these things to tease you. This is selfish; all for me. I have coveted you since I met you. My desire is not to hurt you or your spirit in any way.”  
  
“Then why?” The words were out of her mind and her mouth at the same time. She could speak! Sort of. Her question had sounded desperate, fearful and breathless.  
  
“I’ve been thinking on that. Your resiliency is impressive. I believe you can withstand this. I know that I can have you once and let you go.”  
“I am not yours to have,” her voice was firm but tears were spilling from her eyes now. She felt cold and hot all at once, discomfited as she had never been before.  
  
“No?” he breathed at her ear, easing his hand under her kimono above the swell of her breasts. Akiba could feel the warmth of his fingers through the nagajuban. Even as her breath hitched, she tried again.  
  
“No. Nobuyuki, I am your brother’s wife. I love Yukimura. We are happy. P-please. Don’t.”  
  
His hand stilled. His whole body stilled. She worried he might hurt her then, this man she had thought she knew so well, but his voice came out warm and benevolent. Normal.  
  
“Akiba, I know exactly who we are. Close your eyes, darling. Pretend that I am Yukimura, if that helps you. I won’t mind.”  
  
She could feel her mouth quivering, but the pitch of his voice at her ear made her close her eyes just as he bid. And she did not protest further.   
  
“Is there something that you like…? I know your neck is sensitive, and your waist.”  
  
Yukimura. It was Yukimura asking her this question. He wasn’t leagues away, he was right here. She took a deep breath and pictured his dear face, looking down at her with wonder and regard. Together they were discovering what they liked, happily learning each other with each coupling. But the silly thing still needed reassuring, sometimes.  
  
“M-my hips.” She cleared her throat and raised her chin, keeping her eyes closed. “My breasts. My wrists. Holding. Gentle squeezes. I don’t… I don’t like to be hurt.”  
  
“It is an even worse man than I that would hurt you, Akiba.”  
  
She kept her eyes closed, but tears seeped out anyway. She could feel the warmth of the path they followed to her chin. Solemn, resigned. Her crying was silent and felt residual, more from stress than fear of the unknown. Somehow she had skipped past being frightened to be stoically passive.  
  
“Brave woman. A stalwart warrior’s heart,” he murmured. He sounded impressed.  
  
Akiba stiffened and opened her eyes, even though her back was to him and she could not see his face. If she could, she would have looked at him askance. She had learned a few things, but she was no warrior. If she was, she would have fought her way out of this position.

“I _do_ think so,” Nobuyuki said through a smile. “There are many ways to fight. Endurance is one. I can see why you and Yukimura adore each other. Your resolve is admirable. And then there is…” he trailed off, his hand lowering inside her clothes, to cover the curve of a breast. “…The rest of you.” The end of that thought sounded slightly husky.    
  
Unbidden, she realized she should be flattered. She was flattered. This was simply not an appropriate way to _be_ flattered. She felt appreciated, but wrong. His hands were warm on her body. The one at her side held her to him. The one at her chest flexed, as though he were testing the weight of her breast. He was practically wrapped around her.

“Gentle here?” Nobuyuki asked, pressing against her chest lightly.

She waited.

He waited longer.

She nodded her head, once, quickly as she could. Still above her nagajuban, his hand went further into her kimono, all the way across her breast. And then he slowly, so slowly, brought his hand back to the center of her chest, pressing his fingers lightly into her skin along the way. Her breath hitched, and she shuddered.  
  
He repeated that movement, moving his fingers just a bit to never quite trail over the same parts of her breast on the following pass. She shook every single time.  
  
His lips pressed soft kisses to her cheek. One of his fingers put extra pressure on her nipple and she drew in a noisy breath. Her traitorous body was beginning to warm. He smiled against her face.

“An exquisite sound, that. We are quite alone. You may make all the noise you like, darling.”

Something about his surety made her sag in his arms. She realized she could not escape this. Deep inside her heart, she began to steel herself for what was to come. Her life had prepared her to resist fatalism whenever possible, but this was an extraordinary circumstance. She knew it was going to happen.  
  
“Would you like to sit down?” His solicitude in the midst of this made her head swim, and it made her frown.  
  
“…Yes,” she said, finally. She did not trust herself to stand. She did not trust herself at all.  
  
He slid his hand out of her kimono and took her wrist. He walked them behind a screen. Plush bedding was laid out on the floor, and one small covered lamp cast warm, steady light. An alcove held a beautiful vase with stalks of feathery grass artfully placed within. Nobuyuki sat down with no ceremony and softly pulled at her until she kneeled. She stared into the light of the lamp, no longer crying but feeling heavy with dread. He sat with his legs crossed, facing her. His other hand found hers, and he began to trace whorls on the inside of her wrists. She fidgeted, feeling warmer.

Of course he was getting to her; she had told him exactly how to do it.

“Would it be better, do you think, if I took you roughly?” he asked. “Would it be easier for you to not be thinking about this?” His question was asked so courteously, so earnestly. He did not sound like his usual bemused self.  
  
She pulled her eyes away from the lamp to look at him, because she was a fool. His expression was unguarded, gentle. He wasn’t smiling. He was looking at her with infinite concern and patience. She remembered so many times when he had taken up for her, teased her out of sadness or worry, and treated her well. She looked at his face, trying to puzzle him out, for a long time. It helped her get closer to calm.  
  
She shook her head. But there was something she needed to know.

“After this… what?”  
  
Of course he had an answer for her right away.

“I would like us to return to our regular lives. I will treasure this memory all of my days, but I will never proposition you again, and never tell a soul. You may do as you wish. If you would like to make your household elsewhere, I will quietly help make that happen. I will not trap you beyond this night, in any way. If there is more that you want, you may name it.”  
  
He looked so much younger. Vulnerable. It was like he was trying to convince her without trickery, despite… all his trickery. He looked like his brother, without the blush. 

“Can I trust that you will do what you say? Not hurt me, not do this ever again, not use this to hurt Yukimura?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
And she was a fool ten times over, because she saw his face, looking hopeful, and heard a helpless catch his voice, and believed him. Akiba knew it might all be artifice he’d perfected to mislead people like her, but she believed it. She believed him. She nodded.

The part of her heart that had calcified minutes earlier softened. But she would not go without him _knowing_ that she saw him, and that behind the goodness he wanted there were eyes that saw and a brain that worked, and she was not—totally—fooled by him.

“You planned this. I do not appreciate your machinations.” She saw something in his brow flicker a bit at her words, and she realized he seemed _excited_ to have been called on his scheming. Had no one ever challenged the way he played people? If someone had checked him before tonight, would the two of them even be here?

“But I recognize that I have limited power here. If you will do as you say, then… continue. If you do not, I will see you poisoned. And I will tell Saizo. In some order.”  
  
He beamed at her, delight incarnate, and nodded. “Yes. You clever, brave beauty. I will do as I have said.”

Feeling abstractly soothed that things were now plainer between them, she closed her eyes once more and took a steadying breath. She pulled her hands free and reached for the bow at her back. Best to get through this now and process it later.

“May I?” he asked.  
  
She nodded and brought her hands to her lap.

He rose to his knees and moved in front of her. His sudden embrace surprised her; he held her tightly and whispered just beside her ear. “I promise. I love you, I will never hurt you. I will never make you do this again. I would never hurt Yukimura.”

She sighed in his arms, feeling that their strange dynamic had somehow inverted.

Nobuyuki straightened, and his hands made quick work of undoing the knot of her obi. He pulled one end of the fabric until it was gone from her body completely. Her kimono and nagajuban went slack across her chest without the obi holding them closed. A swath of her body felt the mild chill of the evening air.

“So lovely,” he praised. “You are autumn made flesh, warm and beautiful.” His poetic commentary made her blush. She did not need Yukimura to craft fine phrases for her to love him, but it was objectively nice to be admired by someone with the depth of culture to do so.

Nobuyuki moved to her shoulders, where he took the collars of her robes in his hands. He eased them down her arms, taking in the sight of her body with widening aquamarine eyes. He let the kimono fall to the floor behind her back before pulling the remaining fabric from her knees and pushing it to the floor as well. And then he just looked at her, clearly pleased with what he saw.

“How does he ever leave you?” he wondered aloud, cupping a breast in each hand. At that question, she had to smile. She was not a warrior, but she had strength. And Yukimura, if indirectly, had taught her to use it. Talking about him would help.

“He leaves for you. And me. For the glory and safety of the Sanada.”

She could see from his face that he loved Yukimura, too. Somehow, despite where and how they were, that also helped. She could not decide if this meant she was capitulating to Nobuyuki entirely, but she hoped not.

His hands on her breasts were tender. They rubbed gently, in ways she liked and in ways that were new to her. He plucked at her nipples, never pinching too hard. Eventually she was unable to resist the urge to push forward into his touch. His right hand moved around to her naked back and he brought his head to a breast, suckling at her, pressing her skin. She only realized when she felt the texture of his hair that she was weaving her hands through it.  
  
She told herself to focus on the feeling. She would use him, too, lonely little lord with too much time and too clever a mind.

His hand came back, and he played her body like a master musician. Before long her head was thrown back, and she was moaning and rolling her hips towards him from her kneeling position. Nobuyuki kept at it. At one point he was rubbing one of her nipples with his thumb and tonguing the underside of her breast where it joined her ribs, humming. His other fingers drummed around the other breast. Why, precisely, had such a skilled lover put forth all this effort for a night with her?

After playing with her body a few moments more, he drew back. His hands began to untie his own clothing, moving in ways that looked oddly dispassionate. She felt her eyes narrow as she watched.  
  
“Do you want me to do that?” she asked. Her voice was even steadier than she had hoped it would be and she felt a tiny thrill of triumph.  
  
He smiled at her. “Don’t trouble yourself. But I admire your nerve.”

The rest of his clothing was pulled off and tossed aside. To think she had been impressed by his manners only a few hours ago.  
  
His body was lean, but had more muscle than she expected. Her eyes fell from his chest to his—oh. Oh dear. There went her admirable nerve.  
  
He chuckled at her again, and her eyes whipped up to his, frustrated. His smile softened and she frowned at him but then relaxed. What was the point?  
  
Nobuyuki took up her hands again and kissed both palms. He placed them gently on top of her lap. She watched as he reverently brought a hand back to her body. She thought he would touch her breasts again, but his palm landed on her stomach, fingers down.

“Our hope is in you,” he said quietly, looking where his hand rested. On another day she might have blushed further, but she knew that he was speaking the truth, whether Yukimura’s seed was already growing in her body or not. She herself was hopeful but could not be sure for another week or so.

His hand slid lower. She fretted at her lip, feeling anxious again. Why had her sudden bravery deserted her just as quickly as it had come?

“What do you like here?” he asked. His fingers were edging into her curls, slow but insistent.

She had been bold earlier, but was not ready to articulate what he was asking for. She grabbed his wrist with both hands instead and took a deep breath through her nostrils. Their eyes met. He nodded.

Akiba slid her own hand down to cover his, and spread her thighs. She took his hand to the bundle of nerves and rubbed in a slow circle. She dipped his fingers to her slit and brought them back up between her folds, already slick. Nobuyuki was a quick study, and when he was touching her properly without her help, she brought her hands up so she could tease both breasts at once. Yukimura always went a little wild seeing her do this as he coaxed her body.

Nobuyuki’s labored breathing and quick glances from her chest to her face made it apparent Yukimura was not the only one who liked the sight.

She pinched her nipples, relishing having hands to do this while she was touched just as she would touch herself. Then there was pressure at her entrance. One of his fingers. Then his voice, somehow sweet: “And…?”  
  
“Mmmnnnnnyes!” Her answer was a hiss, eyes shut tight. She pinched harder and grit her teeth as he pushed that finger inside. Her blood began to sing a dangerous melody in every part of her body, especially where his finger crooked within her. He was still circling her clit, applying exactly the pressure she had shown him. Another long, pathetic sound came out of her mouth as he withdrew the finger and then eased it back into her.

A hand behind her neck pulled her face to his. It was not to the kiss she was expecting, but to his open mouth, covering hers. She realized what he wanted and let herself moan into him. His hand went into her hair and he groaned into her mouth in turn. The fingers at her scalp pressed, massaging roughly, while he slid another finger inside her body with the first.  
  
He swallowed her broken cry. And then he consumed every one of the sounds that followed as he fingered her, steadily, crooking those fingers _just_ so, taking her to that peak. She was squeezing her nipples hard and quick, trying to make him go faster. Ever observant, he caught on and sped up. She could feel the tension rising, rising, right along with the pitch of her voice between their faces. Her thighs were shaking.

And then she tumbled over the edge, and she fell and fell and kept falling. He slowed but did not stop. The hand behind her head moved to her back to keep her upright. His fingertips twitched up inside her again and her legs shuddered anew. Her own fingers rubbed her breasts lazily, riding out the sensations as she came down.

“That was magnificent to watch,” he said softly at her ear.  
  
All she could manage was a comfortable “Hmm.” She was glad of the hand at her back or she might have collapsed. He was bringing his fingers out, and her eyelids finally opened as her body clenched on the emptiness he left.

Akiba watched as he brought his hand to his mouth and licked the fingers and palm clean, humming at the taste. It was erotic but elegant. She supposed that was how she would view him from now on, if she didn’t have to see him dead.

When he was satisfied with his hand, he used it to push her back onto the bedding, lowering her with his other arm still behind her. Once she was settled, his fingertips moved to skim the curves of her body, the light touches waking her up from the pleasant drowsiness and making her feel warm despite the nip of late evening in the room.

Nobuyuki moved his body between her legs. She felt his cock, rigid and hot, against a thigh. Since his hands had been on her, she knew he had not touched himself. So she smirked, knowing his arousal was from her body, her words, her sounds. She would think about how wrong her pleasure in that was later.

His forearms rested on either side of her head. His torso pressed to hers, making her breasts tingle as they absorbed his body heat.

“I love you,” He said. She opened her eyes and cocked a brow at him. This was a very unorthodox way to love someone. Actually, she realized, to him it was probably as orthodox as it could be. He trusted practically no one and wouldn’t allow a casual observer to see beyond his smile or his calm to become more intimate. This might be the only way, for someone like Nobuyuki. It didn’t make what he was doing okay, but it did soften her heart further. What was going to become of this man?

He looked so different without a smile. His lips curved up from habit but there was no mirth in his expression. His gaze was desperate, and it looked foreign on his face. “I love you,” he repeated firmly. “I’m not sorry.”

Without guidance, he brought the head of his cock forward, touching where his fingers had been. She was so sensitized a tiny moan escaped her. And then he slid in.

In.

**_In._ **

She felt her mouth become an “O” as she took in a shuddering breath. She breathed out a quieter sound and listened to his own gaspy breathing, the lack of elegance in it giving her another small thrill. Nobuyuki’s body was rigid, and she could feel the muscles of his arm under her fingers. Did he hide these on purpose, like he hid the darkness he was capable of? Did he do it to lull the people around him into thinking he wasn’t as dangerous as he was?

He was longer than Yukimura, and more slender. The tip of him was pressing against something deep inside her body, just shy of painful. She recognized the sensation; sometimes Yukimura surged against that part of her with his quick, deep thrusts when he sought to come quickly to join her after she reached her completion. But Nobuyuki stayed right next to that spot, a constant pressure. It made her close her eyes and curl her toes. And raise her hips slightly. For more, and then less.

She felt him kiss her forehead. He groaned, hovering just above her face. He drew back his hips and then pushed into her again slowly, returning to exactly where he’d been. “You feel perfect,” he said, and she knew from the vindication and wonder in his voice that he meant it.

He lifted her arms over her head, clasping her wrists in one of his hands. One of his fingers caught the bracelets. The little ring of their contact was delicate. “I helped him get these,” he told her softly. His voice was thick, but held no bitterness. He said it like he simply wanted her to know.

 _Ah_. And she felt like she understood more, now. A new sense of the three of them and how their lives were entwined clicked into place.

“Why would you do that?” she asked on a sigh, rising her body to him again to chase the friction his cock and hips provided. She knew the answer. But maybe he wanted to be teased as much as he wanted to be discovered in all his plots.

“Why indeed,” he breathed, moving his hand to her face. His length twitched within her. He was smiling again. A real smile. She was right about him wanting someone to tease him back. He cupped her cheek and kissed the tip of her nose. Then his hand slid down her body to her hip. His left hand, wherever it had been, went to the other hip, and he pressed his fingers into the flesh of her bottom and his thumbs into the front of her body. She flexed herself around him within her and he stilled. 

“What else do you like done to your hips?”

She thought she was done marveling at him forever, but she had to wonder how a question could be so demanding and deferential all at once. _Master of a clan_ , she supposed.  
  
“Hold them while you push in. Keep us close,” she answered. And he did.  
  
She began to moan anew as he sped up. It was still languid; there was so much of him it took time to slide out and in. And every time he thrust, he put himself as far as he could go into her body, bringing their hips flush. He kept brushing that tender spot within her, like the oddly pleasurable sensation of poking a bruise. She writhed, but not to get away. He continued to hold her, to grip and squeeze the soft skin of her hips, and to murmur her name and call her clever and radiant as he pushed inside of her. 

Nobuyuki’s hands slid to her waist, where he handled her in much the same way. His thumbs pressed into the sides of her belly and his fingers felt like they nearly touched behind her back. He held her in place there as he fucked her with no apparent hurry, and the rising tension of her pleasure went up another notch.

She gasped, her lips trembling around the sound, as he pushed in and clutched her with his hands. Her body clenched around him again.

“So. Tight.” He gritted out. The observation was so flagrantly carnal that she moaned and squeezed herself, hard, around his cock once more.

His right hand moved from her waist to cup her thigh. He raised his eyebrows at her, seeking permission. She raised her own right back in challenge. Nobuyuki’s eyes narrowed, but she had not missed the feral pleasure that had flown across his face. Whether he was letting her see it or she was getting better at seeing, she wasn’t sure.  
  
He lifted her leg against his chest and held it there as he was drawing out of her. And then he slammed into her, hard. His moan mingled with her sharp cry. She arched her back and tossed her head, needing to move, needing to vent this feeling. She reached for him to pull him body closer.

“Are you alright?”  
  
“Yes. **_Go_**.”

“Of course,” he said, gliding slowly into her again. Then he pulled out and slammed back in. Then drew out and pushed back, so, so slowly. Nobuyuki caressed her face as he moved, and she could tell he was looking right at her even though she couldn’t keep her own eyes open. He was probably going to drive her insane and definitely going to make her come.  
  
“Close,” she hissed. And oh, the delicious throb of him inside her when he heard her took her right there—

“Who do you love?” He demanded through his teeth, his forehead rubbing hers, drawing his hips back, poised to crash into her again.

“Yukimura!” she cried as he did just that, her eyes shut tightly as she shattered around him.

“I know you do, darling.” He smoothed the hair at the top of her head, he palmed her breasts, he gripped her hips, he did everything. She could not keep track, it was all too hazy and she was making mindless breathy little cries as she came down. He was everywhere, and still moving within her, drawing every sensation out.

And then suddenly he wasn’t moving within her, and his body wasn’t on hers anymore. She just managed to keep herself from crying out by biting her lip, a needy sound making its way through her nose instead. She felt his hand on her thigh, and then warm, thick liquid splash onto her stomach and upper legs. Nobuyuki, on his knees between her legs, quietly moaned as he spent himself. She marveled at his body in her afterglow, especially those muscled arms, pulling his cock and seeing his pleasure to its end.

He moved outside her legs and fell beside her, breathing heavily. He gathered her into his arms. His come was sticky between them, smearing from her body to his, and she could feel her own wetness slipping out of her. He groped for his discarded kimono and pulled it over them, then resettled his arms around her.

“You are a jewel without peer, Sanada Akiba” he said quietly into her hair.

“I’m sure you tell that to all your brother’s wives, schemer.”

He laughed, a free sound, and touched her cheek. “I wish I had found you first. You are so much more than they will ever understand.” There was audible sadness, even though he was giving her the truest smile yet. It reminded her of what he had said about the bracelets. This was information that he gave her only because he wanted her to know, not because he expected her to change anything.

As their breathing slowed, she raised her head to look into his eyes.

“Why did you…?”

He knew what she was talking about, and had an answer for her right away. Of course.

“You should bear a Sanada,” he said solemnly, his free hand trailing down to rest low on her stomach. “But he should be my brother’s.”

Her heart swelled with tenderness for this man. She should hate him. But she did not.

After they had lain quietly for a few minutes, Nobuyuki got up from the bedding, taking his kimono with him. Her eyes followed his lean legs and backside as he took two sleeping robes from a chest, and brought them over to her with a bowl of water and a cloth. Without asking, he wet the cloth and cleaned her body. How water left untended all their time in this room could be warm, she did not know. But it was, so she stretched out and luxuriated in the feeling of the water cooling quickly on her body. His touch with the cloth was gentle and thorough. His hands did not stray from the task of cleaning her. She told herself not to think about whether she wanted him to or not.

He offered her one of the sleeping robes when he was finished. She put it on and tied the sash as she watched him clean his own stomach and thighs. The skin of his abdomen looked golden in the lamplight, soft over the hint of musculature. Then he shrugged on the other sleeping robe and his body was hidden by cloth.  
  
“May I kiss you?” he asked. The man was impossible.

“Only once,” she answered.

His smile was rueful. “I will save it, then.”

Kneeling beside her, he leaned closer to her face and took her hands in his.

“Thank you. I do not expect anyone will ever replace you in my affections. But I will never coerce you again, and I will never use this night to hurt you or my brother. ”  
  
She held his gaze until she was sure he _knew_ that she knew. That he knew that she saw him. That ever-observing Nobuyuki was not immune from being noticed, himself. That she noticed, and remembered what he did, and perhaps understood him. Much better than everyone else, apparently, anyway. That she loved his brother. But that she loved the Nobuyuki who did not smile, too.

When she was certain they understood one another, she reached for his face and pulled him down to her kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :} 
> 
> I leave the considering of possible consequences of this night to you, gentle reader.
> 
> There you have it! This story has become my dirty little baby over the last few days. My head feels much clearer now that it's all out. Obviously every author loves and lives for comments, but this is the first smut I've written in a while so if you liked it, please please tell me so and I would be thrilled to write more for you! If you didn't, please forgive me.
> 
> I have a positively evil idea for an epilogue. ;}


	3. Epilogue (Yukimura)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yukimura: seeing, shamed, and scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How wrong is this? Pretty wrong. 
> 
> Narration (loosely) shifts to Yukimura, here. I hope I've included enough as you get into it to explain what's happened.
> 
> ANGST. Much internal trauma. 
> 
> More thanks than I can type for Martine, who was kind enough to look this over for me and help me refine some of poor Yukimura's reaction/reasoning. It was hard, and this would be a poorer effort without her help.

He could not believe himself.

He could believe them. Though what happened was shocking, they made the sort of pair people agreed with when they saw them together. It made a kind of sense. But it also _hurt_ , slicing through him as a blow no enemy had ever landed. He thought he mostly felt… cold? Was that what this was? This combination of overwhelming, horrifying feelings were new to him. They reminded him of fear.

His lips were shaking. It had been a long time since he cried rather than trying to exhaust himself to sleep and waking up with calmer feelings. But he was pretty sure this was the beginning of a cry. It was all he was sure of at the moment.

Was it all of him that was shaking? He did feel cold, all over. Even… there, in his hand. It was a chilly night, but it was not so cold as to make him feel this way.

Akiba had been silent for several moments. Had she fallen asleep in his brother’s arms? He wanted to look again, but he didn’t trust his legs. He was trembling. He had managed to clap his hands over his mouth before gasping or crying out when he first saw them over the screen, but if he stood up and fell over now he would be discovered. He was not ready to respond to this. So he resolved to stay put for a few minutes and try to quiet his mind. Try to meditate. Try to breathe. Try to stop shaking.

But he could not believe himself. As he released his hold on himself, his fingers shook like the rest of him. Like his spirit. He brought his hand in front of his face, the come webbing between his fingers, and he was not sure if meditating or crying or screaming or running or fighting or anything else in the world was going to help him.

Tears were welling in his eyes. He _was_ scared, he could tell, now. This feeling was dread. It was fear.

Yukimura loved her. He loved his brother. They were his precious people, both beautiful and so smart. They had noble spirits, and elegance, and gentle ways of setting people at ease. They set _him_ at ease. He thought that Akiba’s unusual entry to their family had been made a little easier because she was already so like what the clan was used to being proud of in Nobuyuki.

Did she prefer his older brother? His own aptitude for battle and connection to Kai had allowed him to step out of the shadow of being “second son” and “spare”. Akiba never gave him any cause to believe that she would rather have been with Nobuyuki. But what to make of this? Was the preeminence of his brother such that… this was what was going to happen, now?

Sometimes (dark, lonely times), all Yukimura knew that he had were bravery and strength and the best intentions. Even as he grew to be physically stronger and even better known than Nobuyuki, he was still lacking in comparison. People might call him Lord Yukimura, but after their father, Nobuyuki would be Lord Sanada. Nobuyuki was a good leader and everyone deferred to him because his judgment was sound. It was habit.

But _why_ had he deferred here, and not stopped them immediately? He knew he could have ripped them apart and screamed for an explanation. What kind of man would just _listen to that_? And what kind of filthy-minded voyeur would do what he had done while listening? He had not known how to interrupt, and the longer he waited, the more impossible it seemed. Yukimura did not even remember beginning to touch himself. But he did remember the anguish of how good it had felt as he listened to them. Instead of stopping them.

He felt so much shame. He was crying quietly, without tears. He was still shaking. He was still scared.

“Little brother,” Nobuyuki’s voice came softly over the screen. “Come here.”

He could feel his entire body freeze and go scarlet. Maybe Nobuyuki was only saying something because he suspected Yukimura was there, not that he knew. He had seen his brother lay bait for courtiers that way dozens of times, but word never seemed to get around about the tactic. Perhaps if he was very still and quiet, Nobuyuki would go to sleep, too, and he could get out of there. 

It was not his nature to sneak like this. He had little aptitude for it. His way was to charge forward, always—he left the sneaky stuff to Saizo. The last time he remembered hiding was while playing childhood seek and find games.

With Nobuyuki.

They had been quite a pair as children. Nobuyuki was patient and exceptionally kind, and never left his overeager little brother to be teased by others. When he was scared or frustrated or just couldn’t sleep at night, he would go to Nobuyuki’s rooms. They would whisper about what they would do when they reached majority and what their mother had been like. Sometimes Nobuyuki would tell him stories and he would fall asleep listening to the voice of the person he loved most in the world. It had been safe. Nobuyuki was always safe.

Always safe.

So Yukimura stood. And he walked around the screen. He did not wipe his hand; the tiny part of him that did feel angry and wronged wanted them both to have to see it, even though realizing that made him wince. He was vaguely aware that the liquid was starting to crust.

Akiba was asleep, tucked into Nobuyuki’s side with her hair fanning behind her across the bedding. She was wearing a sleeping robe that looked like pearl around her skin. Impossibly beautiful, with color in her cheeks. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed. Had he not been so accustomed to the peace of her sleeping face he might have missed that detail. Her cheek was resting on Nobuyuki’s arm, her body turned toward him and a hand resting lightly on his chest. She breathed evenly.

Yukimura ached for her. His own chest felt as though it had been pitted like a fruit. The first tear slid down his face, lazy and strangely warm. It was real. It had happened. He had not been confused or imagined it.

Nobuyuki met his eyes and tilted his head to the other side of his body, a very gentle expression on his face. Yukimura had not seen that invitation or that look since they were children.

There was little bedding left on the side Nobuyuki had indicated, but there was enough. He went to his brother’s side and lay down, feeling small in several ways.

“Genjirou…”

“Shut up,” Yukimura said, surprising himself with his tone but also feeling like Nobuyuki deserved it. “I love her. And I am going to lose her to you.”

“No you aren’t, little brother.”

How could a person do what Nobuyuki had just done and still talk to him like he was loved?

“Who would have me when they could have you?” This bitterness was a char in his throat, choking him from the inside out. The question had been with him for all of their lives.

“She would. You should never fear losing Akiba’s heart to anyone,” Nobuyuki admonished, stroking Yukimura’s hair. He was making comforting noises, shushing sounds.

“Don’t hush me!” he replied angrily.

“Do you want to wake her?” Nobuyuki’s question was so calm, so sensible. And Yukimura was back to being embarrassed.

“…No,” he said, voice small. Much quieter.

After a moment, Nobuyuki spoke again. “I saw your shadow on the screen. How long were you there?”

“Long enough,” Yukimura mumbled. He had no way to know how long the two of them had been there together before he entered the room, drawn by the sounds of someone crying out.

“Do you want to clean up?”

“No.”

“Then you should sleep,” Nobuyuki told him. He felt his brother pull him closer, gently.

Yukimura had ridden hard to come back tonight and surprise them both. He was exhausted, and now confused and scared, too. He turned on his side, curling into the once-familiar warmth of his brother’s body. And he cried as quietly as he could until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAAAAAAAH why did I do what I did?! What the hell, brain! 
> 
> I think this is it for these three. At least in this scene. But wheels are turning. ;}
> 
> Kudos and comments water my crops. I am thirstier for feedback than I am for Masamune and y'all, that is SAYING SOMETHING.


End file.
